


A Perfect Pet for Donnie

by hummerhouse



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012)
Genre: Gen, Humor, Loneliness, Pets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-28 00:51:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6307288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hummerhouse/pseuds/hummerhouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Disclaimer: The TMNT are not mine. No money being made.<br/>Word Count: 2,804 One shot, 2k12<br/>Summary: The pre-teen turtles each have their own personal hurdles in life, but for one genius the pangs of loneliness remind him of how different he is from his brothers.  Until the perfect pet comes along.</p><p>Written for the "Springtime" contest on DeviantArt</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Perfect Pet for Donnie

            Growing up as sewer dwellers meant a constant struggle for survival.  Trying to stay healthy in less than sanitary conditions, finding food that wouldn’t sicken them, shelter for both warmth and safety, and fresh water for drinking and bathing were top priorities.

            Little extras, like toys in working condition, or books to read were luxuries.  Before they found the abandoned subway station beneath Chinatown, the small family was often forced to leave behind nonessential items as they fled imminent discovery.

            Because the subway station was so well hidden, having been blocked off by humans years earlier, it was a lucky happenstance that allowed Master Splinter to discover it.  He immediately saw its benefits and wasted no time moving his young sons into their new abode.

            Having a safe, warm, and dry place to live had only eased part of the burden.  Master Splinter was still hard pressed to find sustenance for his children and they often went hungry.

            The pressure of feeding young ones made the idea of acquiring pets completely out of the question.  Besides, until Raph had brought home a small turtle, pet type animals were not in abundance in the sewers.

            Unless you counted cockroaches.  Those were easy to find, especially during springtime, and not so easy to get rid of.  Hence the rules about cleaning up after meals and never leaving food out.  Master Splinter insisted they never do anything to encourage the rats or cockroaches into sticking around.

            When Raph had begged to be allowed to keep Spike, having named the turtle despite his brother’s warnings that he shouldn’t get attached, Master Splinter had agreed.  His siblings were surprised until their father had explained that Raph was fully responsible for caring for the turtle.  In addition, Master Splinter had said that feeding the turtle wouldn’t be hard because it could live off of things they could easily forage.

            Donatello was a little jealous of Raph after that.  His brother kept the turtle close, not allowing Don to study it the way the young genius would have liked to.  Raph had something to talk to when he was out of sorts, but Don did not.  His brothers often tuned him out after only a few words though his father had tried to make him feel better by telling Don that he should be proud of his intellect.

            Being proud that he was smart was one thing, but it didn’t help much during those times when Don felt alienated from everyone else.  He kept himself busy with projects, pouring over every bit of reading material he could get his hands on in order to create things for his family.  Things that would make life better, easier, more fun.

            Of course those things were appreciated, but they didn’t bridge the gap between him and his siblings.  Don really wanted someone he could talk to, someone who wouldn’t find an excuse to leave the room as soon as Don opened his mouth.  Or was rude enough to tell him he was boring.

            Then there was the training sessions where they began learning from their sensei how to be ninjas; how to be skilled fighters.  All four of the turtles took to it right away, relishing in learning just how strong, agile, and fast they were considering they were mutated reptiles with hard shells.

            Unfortunately for Donnie, Leo and Raph developed into really great warriors.  Mikey excelled in agility and natural athleticism.  Donatello could fight, could perform all of the drills, the katas, the moves, but he wasn’t nearly as adept as his brothers.

            Master Splinter often reminded Don that he tended to overthink things.  What exactly was Don supposed to do with that?  He was a genius, of course he used his brain.  After all, turning it off wasn’t as simple as flicking a light switch.

            Leo and Mikey made allowances for Don’s less than stellar fighting ability.  They told him he was still one of four of the best fighters in the city and that he was definitely the smartest.

            Raph on the other hand picked on Don unmercifully.  He enjoyed taking Don down during practice sessions, or ‘wiping the rug with you’ as he often told his genius brother.  When they took up weapons training, Don lost many a Bō staff to his stronger brother.  Raph took some kind of wicked pleasure in breaking Don’s staffs in two.

            It wasn’t just during practice that Raph would harass Donatello.  He frequently made allusions to Don’s awkward height, his gangly legs, and the odd gap between his teeth.  Whenever Don would begin to explain something to any of them, Raph would often interrupt with a derisive snort and a muttered ‘dork’.

            To avoid the teasing, Don began to keep to himself more and more.  He set up a workshop for himself in a space off of the living room and away from the bedrooms.

            Don really loved his new domain but sometimes it could get lonely.  The only one who ventured in with any frequency was Mikey, and that was usually because he was either bored or curious, or sometimes both.  That wasn’t a combination of things that bode well for Don’s projects or experiments, so he was forced to shoo Mikey away.

            One day during a particularly nice springtime Don, driven to an unusually deep sense of loneliness, began to talk to himself out loud.  He knew that it was just an illusion that he was speaking to somebody, but it did ease a little of his feeling of isolation.

            Smearing samples into petri dishes, at first Don didn’t notice that he had company.  He was happily jabbering away when he noticed movement from the corner of his eye.  Turning his head Don did a double take upon discovering a rather large cockroach standing upright on the corner of his worktable.

            They stared at each other.  The cockroach didn’t move and Don, going against everything his father had taught him, didn’t swat at the insect.

            After a moment, Don said, “Well, hey there little fellow.  Are you looking for food or did you come up here to watch me?”

            He felt a bit silly talking to the cockroach until he saw its antennae swivel in his direction.

            Looking around to make sure he was alone, Don said, “You’d better not let my brothers see you, they’ll squash you in an instant.”

            The cockroach dropped down on all of its legs and skittered closer to Don, stopping a foot away and appearing to stare at him.

            Very cautiously, Don reached towards the insect, one finger extended.  When the cockroach didn’t run away, Don gently brushed the tip of his finger across the insect’s back, surprised when the cockroach curved up towards his finger.

            Turning his hand over, Don set it down palm up in front of the cockroach.  The insect immediately crawled into his hand and settled there, its tiny eyes directed up towards Don’s face.

            “This is so cool,” Don murmured, using the finger from his other hand to stroke the cockroach’s back.

            Thereafter the cockroach became Don’s almost constant companion in his workshop.  Don talked and the cockroach perched on the edge of his worktable and listened.

            Donatello came to think of the cockroach as his pet.  He researched facts about the insect and was amazed to discover that it could survive off of almost anything.  That made it an even better pet than Raph’s turtle because Don didn’t have to forage for something to feed the cockroach.  It fed itself.

            He also learned that cockroaches came to be about three hundred fifty million years ago, which was about a hundred million years before turtles existed.  Not only that, but the little insects were fast, able to sprint at speeds of eighty centimeters per second with the ability to change direction instantly while in full stride.

            Donnie also found out that cockroaches liked to be touched, preferring the feeling of something solid on all of their sides.  With that in mind, he created a miniature habitation, with walls that were so narrow they could barely be breached by a flash of light.  His cockroach friend often climbed into it during its visits, squeezing in between the walls with only its antennae showing as Don talked to it.

            As the days turned to weeks, Don’s little friend began to bring other cockroaches around to visit him.  Having read that cockroaches could be conditioned, Don tried a number of experiments on them, delighted to find that he could actually train them to do tricks.

            All of this occurred without his family’s knowledge.  Don no longer felt lonely; in fact, he was secretly pleased with himself for having found what he considered a sewer dweller’s perfect pet.  Even Raph’s turtle wasn’t as easy to care for and Spike certainly had no special skills.

            Time did not pass in a vacuum.  Every day routines had to be adhered to and Don continued to suffer Raphael’s ridicule over his fighting ability.  Most of the time Don could ignore him, but Raph’s skill set had grown by leaps and bounds and with every victory he became ever more insufferable.

            His taunting and teasing rolled off of Mikey’s shell like water and Leo successfully ignored him because he could fight as well as his sturdy red banded brother.  Since it was Raph’s intent to get a rise out of someone that left Donatello as his most frequent victim.

            After practice one particularly grueling day, Master Splinter admonished Raphael over his bullying of Donnie.

            “Raphael, we do not gloat over our victories,” Master Splinter said.  “Humility builds character, pride wastes it.  We all learn at a different pace and Donatello is learning at the one that best suits him.”

            “Yes Master Splinter,” Raph said in what was supposed to be a humble tone.  From his vantage point Don could see the small upturn at the corner of Raph’s lips and knew his brother only said that to appease their father.

            As soon as Master Splinter exited the dojo, Raph leaped to his feet and stared down at Don.  With a feeling of dread, the genius stood up as well, glad that his height advantage kept Raph from intimidating him in that department too.

            “Why don’t you learn to fight better?” Raph demanded.  “Master Splinter is never going to let us go topside if you can’t keep up with the rest of us.”

            “I can ‘keep up’ just fine,” Don replied hotly.  “Besides, if he does allow us to go topside, he’s going to expect that we won’t be getting into any fights.”

            “He’s right Raph,” Leo said.

            “Shut up Lame-o-nardo,” Raph snapped without looking at his older brother.  “I’ll bet the second something dangerous pops up, Donnie here will bolt out of fright.”

            “If I were to _retreat_ ,” Don stressed, “it would be because it was prudent to do so, not because I was scared.”

            “I’ve got a better idea, you could talk them to death,” Raph said.  He reached out and snatched the Bō staff, which had somehow survived the practice session, from Don’s hand.

            “Give that back!” Don shouted, lunging for the staff.

            “Whoops,” Raph said with an evil grin, snapping the staff in two over his knee.  “Not only can’t you fight, but your twig here will never intimidate anyone.”

            Don could feel his face burning.  He wanted nothing more than to pounce on Raph and make him eat his words.

            Before either of them could do anything else, Leo stepped between them.  “That’s enough,” he said sharply, staring Raph down.  “If we ever do get to go topside it’s because you learned to control that temper of yours.  Keep picking on Donnie and sensei will never let us leave.”

            Raph sneered at him and backed away, his eyes darting to Don.  “Remember that story about chicken little that sensei used to read to us?  That’s _you_ ,” he said before leaving the dojo.

            Leo watched him go and then turned to Don.  “Sorry bro’.  You know how he is.”

            “I’ve put up with him for twelve years, is he ever going to grow up?” Don asked.

            “He’s just full of himself,” Mikey said.  “Someday you’ll show him and he’ll leave you alone.”

            Later that evening Mikey’s words came back to Don as he aimlessly wandered around in his workshop.  Raph picked on him because he was an easy target.  Maybe, just maybe, he could put a stop to that by showing his brother that he wasn’t the only one who could be intimidated.  After all, Don knew as much about Raph as his brother knew about him, if not more.

            With a solid and slightly vengeful plan in mind, Don spent the next week preparing for his showdown with Raphael.  When he got through with his brother, Raph would know what a terrible idea it was to pick on a genius.

            The perfect moment presented itself during one quiet afternoon.  Raph was seated on the couch, a pile of magazines next to him as he relaxed with his reading.  Leo and Mikey were playing a new game on the pinball machine Don had recently found and repaired, both too involved in that to notice anything else.

            Smiling slyly, Donatello gave the signal to his secret army and then stood back to watch the fun.

            A solid line of cockroaches swarmed towards the couch, completely unnoticed by Raph.  One by one they crawled over the back of the couch, up across the arms, even climbing up from the bottom.  Soon a dozen of them stood atop Raph’s magazine collection, while several dozen more surrounded him on the cushions and back.

            For a few seconds nothing happened.  Then Raph closed his magazine and turned to reach for another.

            “Ahhhhhhh!”

            Raph howled so loudly upon seeing the cockroach army that Leo and Mikey both sprang away from the pinball machine and pulled their weapons.  Surging to his feet, in his haste to run Raph slipped on a magazine lying on the floor and fell forward with a thud.

            The cockroaches were on him in a second.  Screeching at the top of his lungs, Raph began swatting at them, rolling over and over in an effort to get them off.  Faster than he was, the cockroaches evaded his efforts to destroy them and continued to give chase.

            “Ahhhh! Roach, Roach, ROACH!” Raph yelled, managing to scramble to his feet and run in terror, going around in circles in his blind panic.

            Leo and Mikey were both snorting laughter and Don joined in as well, delighted that his plan had worked.  Walking down to the pit in the living room, Don squatted and lowered his hand, waiting for his pet to climb into it.  The remainder of the cockroach army returned to Don’s side, standing in a semi-circle around his feet.

            It took a couple of minutes for Raph to realize he was no longer under attack.  By that time, Master Splinter had joined them, a look of amusement on his face.

            “Donnie!” Raph shouted once he’d stopped moving.  “What are those?”

            “These are my pets Raphael,” Don answered smugly.  “Why?  Are you scared of them?  Surely you aren’t going all chicken little over some tiny insects.”

            Eyes wide as saucers, Raph said, “They aren’t tiny.  Those things are _huge_!”

            Don brought his pet close to his face and caressed it with his cheek.  “Look how small and cute he is.  And so smart!  It’s amazing all of the things I can get him and his pals to do.  I guess I’m not the one we have to worry will bolt out of fright at the first sign of something scary.”

            For once Raph’s raging temper failed him.  Don could tell he wanted to be mad, but the sight of the cockroach army lining up next to the genius overwhelmed his angry disposition.

            “Okay.  Uncle,” Raph muttered, pouting.

            “I’m sorry, what was that?” Don asked.

            “Uncle!” Raph yelled at him.  “You made your point.  Call those things off.”

            “Happy to,” Don said with a triumphant grin.  “As long as you remember there are a lot more cockroaches where these came from and they all like me.”

            Thereafter Raph’s respect for Don increased tenfold.  Though Raph never completely stopped taunting Don about his fighting ability, he was never again vicious about it.  He even limited the number of times he broke Don’s Bō staff.  With Master Splinter’s help, Don eventually put a complete stop to it, but that was a story for another time.

            And the cockroaches?  They remained Don’s pets, coming and going as their life cycles permitted.  Because of them, Don never lacked for someone to talk to and he always thought of springtime as the season that had given him a fresh start.

End.


End file.
